SEIZE THE NIGHT

Fall. 23:03pm. Diamante piano keys play so softly, as if to a new
picture about to be drawn by Picasso. So it is not rushed. Just
gently playing, like a slow breeze, in the right hand corner of
the glossy white room. Its mirrored top catches the image of
tulips and orchids in a vase as astonishing as the star lit sky.
This stunning night, glittering fans for stars beat, flit about,
shooting everywhere while the moon showcases its light -
flickering in and out of objects, things that may not get touched
and things yet to be touched and occupied by bodies - Yamaha
diamante piano keys, the marble floors, the jet black beaded
quilt, the stringed pillows, mirror, the dressing table, Marilyn
Monroe on the wall, that wall where the entrance of intimacy
leaves her blurry. The giant floor length folding windows soon to
screen passionate love-making.

Two hearts, a dangerous duo, race against the night. Whizzing in
and out of others and around each other. Their wild hair
thrashing about in the wind. In and out of a myriad of places
they never miss each other, constantly giggling like little
children. Their hearts thump so violently within their chests.
Last stop. Knightsbridge. Desire burns in their eyes and within
their souls, scorching hot like the sun. He knows. She knows. It
is time. Rhythm of piano intense like it knows they are coming.
As he parks, she parks. They run toward luxurious doors like
horses in flight. Up in the elevator. Breathing so hard it hurts.
Bursts of giddy breath. One last woman leaves. Third. Up close
and personal. He parts her legs with his. His hand traces the
shape of her genitals. She feels him there. He is hard. Fourth.
Fifth floor. Inside the room. Sensual sounds and burning candles.
Centred in this space they were leaning against nothing yet.

Him behind her. "Undress slowly" he says in a silky tone. "I
understand" she says, biting down on her glossy lips, trembling
slightly. A sexy shimmering silver dress that could only be made
for beautiful sirens he thought and an off white Valentino
see-through one piece body suit falls to the marble floor whose
surface reflects the golden spotlights in the room. He stops her
just before she can take her sheer black lingerie by Victoria
Secret off. Her see-through open toe high heels never leave her
feet. Just the way he likes it. His eyes explore this shimmering
Goddess before him. His white Ralph Lauren shirt drops to the
floor. "You are to unbuckle my belt, undo the button and unzip me
but do not turn around" he said. Relieving himself from his suede
black lofas and the last black trouser leg, he bent her over till
her hands touched the floor and let her lace pants find its way
to one corner of the flesh of her perfumed thighs and wrote his
vision in her. This species of a man entering her hemisphere, her
life, moulding his love in her. In and out, in and out, to every
second, minute and hour of the clock. He throbs inside her like
tides of the wave. In and out of time, in and out of time, and
time, it changes like the construction of their love, and the
changes bring their seasons. To each their own song, their own
rhythm, their own intimate moments. Days, weeks, months, years.
The flowers of the garden before them sharing their change,
agreeing with their message. All in this night in Paradise it
seemed. They were like this.

"Reach for my phone" he says. She stretches her hand toward the
phone but before she can even do that he crashes into her as he
holds her limbs back toward him. Thrusting with all his might as
if he had been searching for her his whole life. As if he had
waited too long for this moment and for many repeated moments
like this. Riding her and her feeling his strength in her. He
raised her up and like a dagger he was so hard inside her. "Spell
my name" he whispered in her ear not slowing down, refusing to
back away. She tried but he was thrusting so fast and furiously
she could not. She could barely usher one letter of his name,
only gasping hard at every attempt. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, naughty,
naughty, girl" he said. Her head tilted back, happy lived within
her as a tear fell from the right side of her cheek and across
his cheeks while he still manufactured gasps from her with his
forceful consistency and always to the moons' light they would
be, like actors on a stage ready for the first scene. Ready for
the first applause. He made circles with one finger down in her
most inner parts and then he would continue bringing her back to
him in loving violence. Playing with her hair to the motion of
the moons' light. He was an artist. A perfectionist.

The piano keys caught her limbs with nothing being let out of her
mouth except when he entered her. Again. She moaned as he moaned.
Frazzled song. No voice. No lyrics. Keys. Sounds juxtaposed
against a flesh curating motion in flesh and all so violently yet
so softly. "What can you see" he says. "Nothing. My vision is
blurred" she says. "Should be" he says and continues exploding
within her.

The floor. Breath-taking. The adventure. Different. Intense as he
asks her if she likes it. "Yes" she says. "Do you like it or
should I try harder" she says. "Yes" he says as he picks her up
off the floor to the bed. Lost in translation. The mirror making
a scene of them. He is her sky. She is his water. His and her
locks meshing in and out of each other. Sweat like raindrops
paint the beddings going unnoticed in sheets of ivory and diamond
while a jet black beaded quilt is an Angels' backdrop. Automatic
piano considers a new arrangement.

To the wall. Marilyns' face almost a figment of her imagination
because all she could see was him. Nothing else existed in her
sight. The only part of her sight that could focus well.
Unfinished business becomes more intense. Like fire. He refuses
to back away for one second. To him every second counted. For her
she never knew love like this. Varying lights of the moon swap
places with one another competing against spinning stars, giving
way to new intentions. New desires.

His energy was unmatched. Now she could really see Heaven as he
took her high up she could almost touch the ceiling. He navigated
her so well. She was moaning so much a record could have been
made on that alone. No place and nothing was left unused. He was
a planner. He knew his space. He knew how to execute every action
to the T. Heaven was so strong now she could almost walk into it.
As they both came face to face, levelling with each other, he
entered gently, smoothly. "This must be what the new world looks
like" he said. "Even more than that" she replied coming so much
she could barely focus. Then fingering as wildly as his thrusts,
he left her calling his name. Now at the height of intimacy, he
called her name as orgasmic pleasure took over them. With every
thrust he let them come closer and closer to the ground till they
were at eye level with the flowers. She could breathe only so
slightly. His breath was a lot stronger now. Gentle thrusts and
even more gentler, till they both came some more and collapsed to
the floor. "Thank you" she said softly with closed eyes. "No,
thank you" he gasped as they curled up tightly together. Lights
of the moon finished their composed motions to the end of one
last song and rested on bodies drying against midnight. He had
found his Rosalie and she, her Maxwell . All stars collide.
00:01am.